OP-ED: Open Letter From A Lost Millennial

I did not review a film this weekend because I was indisposed with familial responsibilities and the only major release was “Paranormal Activity 5: The Marked Ones”, an essentially review-proof film, though the reviews I did read gave it relatively high marks. I skipped it. Also there was nothing new On Demand that I felt held any value in critiquing at this point.

If I have any “loyal” readers, I want to let you know this is my only “job”. I do this blog in the absence of any kind of work opportunity. I am officially part of The Lost Generation. I have a Bachelor’s of Arts in Writing & Literature. I cannot find work of any kind. I moved back in with my parents, who met at Harvard Business School in the 1980’s, after a few months of “living on my own” by way of them paying for my apartment so I could pretend to be an adult for a little while. When no work materialized, I admitted defeat and, in simple terms, moved back home over the holidays. I gave up my lease, got my deposit back and now my life is in boxes in the garage.

I obsessively read and comment daily on sites such as Twitter.com, Cracked.com, JoBlo.com, Slashfilm.com, Latino-Review.com, IMDB.com et. al. because after seven months of job searching, the only offers I got were predatory commission-only insurance sales jobs trying to confuse elderly individuals into switching their insurance carrier to line the pockets of these seeming shell companies in barely-populated corporate offices in the outskirts of town, where applicants are herded into a room and pitched a life of making $100-300k a year easy despite zero sales experience and so on. That’s the closest I have come to gainful employment. So I write this blog to feel productive.

Personally, I have thrown in the towel. I no longer look for work. I play the lottery and I glance around online for open editorial/journalistic/writing positions for popular websites or subsidiaries of media conglomerates, but that’s as good as it gets. I have applied for every imaginable type of retail, behind-the-counter, seasonal and blue collar entry level job there is to apply for, with nary a call back.

I spend my time writing speculative articles, fiction and screenplays; lifting weights, watching movies, walking the dog, as above reading articles online, reading books, cooking and sleeping- lots of sleeping. Most jobs I look at require a minimum of multiple years of professional experience. I feel my degree is worthless. A lot of people tell me I am a brilliant writer. My parents can’t tell me often enough how brilliant my writing is. Sadly, complements don’t pay cash.

I’m not asking for a hand out. I’m not complaining. A lot of this is out of my hands. A third of my generation is in the exact same position I am in. However, I can’t help but feel like a failure on a personal level. Many factors led to this economic strife in which I am part of the worst employment statistics in 80 years. The middle class is essentially dead and gone.

I honestly feel that playing the lottery is no less likely a way for me to achieve financial solvency than searching as I have, for employment. Obviously the odds of being hired are astronomically better than winning the lottery, but as an abstraction, gambling on 1 in 259 million odds is no less reasonable than applying for employment in an economy where my degree has given me few marketable skills and the longer I go without that first job, the longer I’ll go without that first job, the longer I’ll go unemployed after graduation, the less likely someone will be to hire me, etc. It’s a vicious cycle, is what I am saying.

Anyway, I am trying to get a press pass so I can be an “official” film critic, at least for myself. My honest hope is that it leads to readership numbers strong enough for me to be poached by a long-established film news and review site, or a pop culture site, which would give me said gainful employment that is proving so elusive.